A Spark Of Fire
by Salessia
Summary: Jon and Jory, two Snows at Winterfell, close friends and maybe more? With no knowledge about her origin or parents, having dreams which foretell pieces of the future, Jory wants to find out who she truly is. Unfortunately Eddard Stark, promising to tell her about it, left for Kings Landing, never to return. It's up to Jory to uncover the truth while escaping the Lannister's grip.
1. Chapter 1 JORY

S01 E01

Winter is coming

Part 1

Jory

People say dreams are delivered to you by the gods. Other say dreams are what you secretly hope for.

I think neither is true. I don't really believe in any gods (not anymore) and I certainly don't think the dreams I have are things I secretly hope for, unless I have some sort of death wish. I don't just see my death, I also see the death of others. Especially  
/others. People never see their own deaths when dreaming. Neither do I. I always wake up before I die.

But that night my nightmare is different.

 _I see a black raven flying past the stables, landing on the archers target. It's turning its head, looking right at me. I am following it. For some reason it feels like the raven is summoning me, urging me to follow it. I have no idea where it is headed. The moment I approach it, it spreads its wings and keeps going, towards and out the gates, leaving the castle of Winterfell. Before the gates I hesitate. I'm not supposed to leave castle grounds without telling anyone. Yet the raven keeps calling for me, so I follow him._

 _However, once I'm out of bounds, I'm no longer in Winterfell or near the castle anymore. It's snowing heavily, but I'm not freezing. In the distance I see a huge wall of ice and a small „castle" in front of it. Lord Stark's Brother Benjen has told me enough about it, so I know for a fact, that that the wall is „The Wall", which separates us from whatever lies beyond, like Wildlings or White Walkers. But apparently the latter doesn't exist any longer. The raven is turning circles above Castle Black and suddenly, out of nowhere, a black horse is rushing past me, towards the Wall. It disappears just a sudden as it appeared and I wake up in my bed._

Whenever I wake up after one of my nightmares, I'm breathing heavily and my sheets are covered in sweat. Usually I get up, cover myself with a thick cloak and go for a short walk outside on the castle grounds.

This time my breath is steady, the sheets are dry, only my heart is racing. Cool air is entering my room, the candle next to my bed has almost burned down. I still feel uncomfortable after the dream, so I decide to take one of my night walks and get anew  
candle. A perfect excuse for anyone who finds me walking around after I'm supposed to be asleep. Anyhow, I hate servants sending me back to bed; after all I'm almost 18. Almost of age and certainly old enough to make my own decisions.

I get out of bed and throw on one of my old cloaks, accidentally knocking over my sword. Luckily the sound is muffled by some other old cloaks lying on the ground, thank the gods. If there were any.

I take the candle and leave my room. Since I grew up in this castle, I know exactly which hallways to avoid in order not to attract any attention to myself. With the black cloak and my noticeable red hair covered by a hood I can easily merge in with theshadows.  
I am quite experienced in the arts of sneaking around and not getting caught. When I was younger I used to play these sorts of games with Robb, Jon and Arya all the time. But now that I'm older, people have all sorts of expectations of me,such  
as becoming and behaving like a lady. I've rebelled against these expectations as long as I can remember simply by skipping lessons I disliked, such as embroidery or sewing and instead practiced Swordplay and Archery with Ser RodrikCassel,much  
to Septa Mordane's and Lady Catelyn's dismay. Eventually the Septa gave up on trying to make needles and silk dresses my friends and allowed me to learn skills like swordsplay, which in this world were meant for men.

Until this day, I've never actually worn any silk dresses, even as a child I strictly refused to wear those stupid dresses as they make it impossible to fight for one thing. And for another, no one takes you seriously if you wield a sword and then showup  
for supper, dressed as a weak little girl. Instead, I wear dark grey leather breeches and and matching wams in black. On the one hand I like black, on the other it fits perfectly to my flaming red hair, the one thing I actually like about myself.

The castle has many exits, but you have to know which ones are not guarded. One of them is a small, wooden door close to the servants quarters, through which I leave the castle. I always walk past the stables. Sometimes I sit and rest on one of the hugebales  
of hay, watching the stars and the moon. One time I fell asleep there. The next day one of the boys working by the stables woke me when I was pricked by his pitchfork.

I approach the stables but instead of climbing on the hill of hay I walk up to the box which holds my horse. She's a grey beauty, which combined with her temper resulted in the name I gave her. Greyfire. Robb said it sounded just mildly cheesy but I didn'tcare  
back then. Not that I care today.

Greyfire is awake but it's the candle which attracts her attention. Slowly she turns around and greets me with a quiet snort.

„Hey there", I whisper and gently stroke her soft nose. Somehow I feel relieved and calmer now. It's always like that when I'm with my horse or just horses in general. They always calm me down, make me feel at home. Comfortable and welcome. The Starkfamily  
doesn't always make me feel that way. Especially Lady Stark.

I never understood why she dislikes me. Well, dislikes is the wrong term. Evading would fit better. When I was little, I didn't understand why Lady Stark disliked Jon so much, until Eddard Stark explained it to me. Jon isn't their real child. He is an  
/illegitimate son of Eddard which means Lady Catelyn Stark isn't his mother, which makes him a bastard. Jon doesn't know his mother and neither do I. My surname is Snow too, but I know I'm neither Eddard's nor Catelyn's illegitimate daughter. I don'tknow  
my parents at all. I assume they're dead. Otherwise I wouldn't be growing up in Winterfell with the Stark family. I don't even know if I'm really a Northerner. I could be somewhere from the darkest corners of Essos and I'd never know. As faras  
I can remember, I grew up with the Starks, being treated just like Jon. Almost a child but not enough their child to be properly loved.

People told me that some men sometimes send their bastards away to be raised among another noble family. I don't know if that could be my case.

All Lord Eddard Stark ever told me the one time I asked him about my family was, that nobody had abducted or taken me from my family, like Theon Greyjoy for instance. I don't know whether to feel happy or unhappy about that information. I am seventeenyears  
old now and Lord Stark had adopted me as his daughter. Of course that didn't officially make me his kin but I didn't mind. I preferred the Starks over my parents, who I in truth hoped to be dead. Having dead parents was better than having livingparents  
somewhere, who abandoned and didn't care about you.

„Can't sleep too?". My heart seems to miss a beat. I didn't hear him coming. I whirl around and face the one who spoke. A pair of grey eyes which match my horses fur, the pale but still pretty face always seems stern somehow, framed by lustrous blackcurls,  
all dressed in black.

„Seven hells, did you have to sneak up on me like that?", I scold Jon jocosely. He approaches and I notice he's wearing his usual attire. The flickering light of my candle falls on his face and again it strikes me how much we look alike. We may not  
/share hair and eye color, but our faces are shaped similar and we both have the Northern people's determination and hardiness. Some people say even I look like a Stark, even though we both aren't, with the difference that Jon has Stark blood and NedStarks  
grey eyes whereas I have neither.

„Forgive me, my lady. I couldn't resist", he says.

„Why the sudden and especially pointless use of formality?", I wonder. Jon chuckles as he leans against Greyfire's stable wall.

„Just felt like it. You as a lady should have more experience in speaking formally than I do". I glare at Jon. He knows I despise being called a lady just as much as he being called „bastard", which happens daily.

I know Jon's just teasing me but for some reason I've always had a bit of a problem understanding jokes at times. But I know for certain Jon didn't say it to offend or hurt me in any way. We've had that conversation, well it was more a heated discussion,years  
ago.

„So, what's a pretty lady doing in the deep dark stables at this hour of the night?", Jon asks. I shrug.

„Thinking, I guess. I couldn't sleep", I say.

„The nightmares again?", Jon asks. I nod.

„May I ask what it was about this time?", he asks. I hesitate.

I've known Jon all my life, we've been close friends since childhood, especially thanks to a connection no one else understands; being a bastard of the North, which means we both carry the surname „Snow".

It's not a question of trust which makes me hesitate, it's a question of interpretation. Jon is certain that my dreams aren't just dreams but some kind of future telling which I sure hope it's not since I've mostly seen death.

„It was different this time. It wasn't about death. For a change. I saw a raven and I followed it. I saw the Wall and Castle Black. A black horse running towards it", I say. Jon remains silent for a moment, lost in thoughts.

„Nothing else?", he probes. I shake my head no.

„That's strange", Jon adjudges.

„Doesn't matter. It was just a dream", I say. To my surprise Jon doesn't object which he usually does.

„Aren't you freezing?", he asks instead, pointing at my bare feet. I didn't even notice I wasn't wearing any boots.

„Not really", I say. We both laugh and our eyes meet. Somehow, whenever I look into Jon's eyes I see some sort of constant sadness. Like a puppy left in the open fields with nowhere to go. Even when he's laughing, the sad glance remains and it neverseems  
to leave.

„You should get back", he says.

„Does that include yourself?", I ask.

„I guess so".

We walk back to the side door I came through in the first place.

„Good night, Jory", Jon says.

„Sleep well, Jon Snow", I whisper and we part ways. I turn and watch as he disappears into the shadows of the dark corridor.


	2. Chapter 2 JON

The arrow flies way past the target it's supposed to hit and gets stuck in a barrel next to it. Bran bites his lips and stamps his foot on the ground, clearly frustrated by his poor archery skills.

I walk past him and place my hands on his shoulders.

„Go on. Father's watching", I say, trying to encourage him. Instead, Bran turns his head, only to see his parents standing on a high catwalk, looking down at him.

„And your mother", I add, as I notice Lady Stark standing next to her husband. Lord Stark, my father, nods at Bran approvingly.

I step back next to Robb as Bran takes another arrow. He aims but pulls the bow up as he fires, sending the arrow right over the brick wall behind the target he's supposed to hit.

Robb and I can't hide our laughter. Rickon, the youngest of the Stark children, who sits on a saddle near the stables just a few meters away joins in.

„And which one of you was a marksman at ten?", Eddard rebukes us, clearly taking Bran's side.

„Keep practising, Bran. Go on.", he says as none of us dare to speak up. None of us was a marksman at ten.

„Don't think too much, Bran", I say.

„Relax your bow arm", Robb adds as Bran draws the bow again.

Suddenly, before Bran can release his arrow, another arrow hits the bullseye. We all turn, just to see Arya standing a few feet behind Bran, a bow in her hand. As she notices she's got all the attention, she curtsies and laughs. Immediately Bran dropshis  
bow and starts chasing after Arya, who escapes through the stables. Robb and I just watch and laugh. It reminds me of my past, when Robb, Jory and I were all Bran's age (ten) and used to chase around the castle especially after Jory had beatenme  
in archery and I, being a boy felt my honor was in danger, chased after her to prove I was just as good as her.

I pick up Bran's bow and put it back to the others, when I hear the sound of a horse galloping by. I turn my head and see a grey horse coming to a halt near the stables and a girl, wearing a black cloak getting off it with such grace I'd recognize anywhere.  
/As she takes off her hood, a long braid of red hair is exposed. It's Jory. She looks at me and nods before tending to her horse.

Rickon get's off the saddle and helps Robb getting the arrows from the target which Rickon then hands to me. I put the arrows back in the quiver with the sharp end down, when I feel some kind of strange tingling onmy neck; the feeling you get when  
someoneis staring at you.

I lift my head and see Lady Stark, standing on the porch on her own now, glaring down at me. We make eye contact. Her eyes are so cold, filled with loathing for me, it hurts deep down. If looks could kill I'd be a dead man by long now. Sometimes I forgetI'm  
not a true Stark, especially when I'm spending time with the Stark children and see they treat me like their true brother. But whenever Lady Stark throws me such glares I feel degraded back to what I am. A bastard.

I pick up the rest of the arrows; as I get up, I catch Jory's eye. She gives me a sad, apologetic smile, which tells me she knows exactly how I'm feeling right now.

„Robb! Jon Snow! A word", someone calls out and I recognize Theon Greyjoy coming towards us. I don't really like him, we have a friendly rivalry going on; Theon always thinks he's _better_ than I am, because he's a true born son of Balon ,  
he never misses a chance of reminding me by constantly calling me by my full name. He might not be a bastard, but at least I'm not some sort of prisoner. He calls himself a ward of Eddard, which is just a nice way of saying he's as much as aprisoner.

Theon hurries towards us and passes Jory, who is taking her horse back to the stable. I don't like the way he looks at her. Kind of leering, like a wolf glares at its prey. I've never trusted Theon and I never will. I swore to myself if he ever as much  
/as touches Jory, I'll cut off his hands. And then his little prick. Not that I've ever seen it. I just guess it is little, because anyone bragging about it as much as he does, usually has a small one.

„Nice one, that is. Never truly noticed that. Especially the red hair", he says, instantly driving me angry.

„Maybe you should stick to your whores in the brothel. As far as I know they have redheads too", I retort, grabbing the hilt of my sword.

„How d'you know that? Experienced it firsthand?", Theon mocks but before I can draw my sword I'm interrupted by Robb, who obviously saw a fight coming.

„I think you came here for another reason than to spar with Jon?", he asks.

„Which might not end as good as you think", I hiss.

„Some Stark men just reported catching a deserter from the Nights Watch", Theon says. We all know what that means. Deserters always get sentenced to death.

„Bran has to come and so does Jory", he informs us.

„What? Bran can't see such things, he's only ten", I exclaim. What's my father thinking?

„Lord Stark has ordered it. What he says goes, which means you can't do anything", Theon says. I sigh.

„Get Jory. I'll pick up Bran", Robb says. I nod and head for the stables. I don't know how to feel. I don't now what to feel. It's not that I'm not used to seeing people being beheaded, I just don't want Bran having to witness it. He's so young and theworld's  
an evil place so he shouldn't have to see evil things being done at such a young age. And I don't want Jory to go as well. It has nothing to do with her being a girl; I know Jory doesn't mind seeing blood or beheadings but for some reason Idon't  
want her to see it either. I don't know how to explain it.

I enter the stables. Jory is standing by Greyfire, combing her, her dark blue eyes fixated on her horses fur, lost in thoughts. She looks up, a broad smile crossing her face as she sees me. Instantly I feel heated somehow.

„What is it?", Jory asks. I feel bad for destroying that pretty smile with such bad or rather unpleasant news.

„A Nights Watch deserter has been captured. Father wants to execute him before dawn", I start.

„And he wants me to come along, is that it?", Jory asks. I nod.

„Well, then let's not make thy father wait", she says and grins while taking her saddle. I smile as well which I do a lot in her presence, I just realized that.

Together we ride for the place in the mountains where executions take place. It's almost sad that such a beautiful place got such a bad reputation by whats going on here. I ride behind Jory and for some reason I can't stop staring at her even if it'sjust  
the back of her head. The sun is shining down on her long red hair, making it shine even redder; as though her hair was on fire.

We reach the execution place and descend from our horses. Some Stark men are already there, taking the captured deserter of the Nights Watch to the block where Lord Stark is waiting for him, Theon is next to him. Robb, Jory, Bran and I stay a few metersaway,  
waiting. The deserter and Lord Stark exchange a few words until the former gets put down, his head on the block. Lord Stark draws his great sword named Ice, the Starks ancestral weapon and starts reciting the formal words, about the deserterbeing  
sentenced to death.

„Don't look away. Father will know if you do", I murmur to Bran, who's standing a few feet in front of me. I feel Jory grabbing my wrist, giving me an angry look. Apparently she doesn't want Bran to see a man getting beheaded but there's nothing she cando.

Lord Stark swings his sword and the deserters head falls to the ground. Neither Robb, Jory or Bran flinch.

„You did well", I say, then turn around and head back to the horses.

Jory helps Bran getting on his horse as Eddard approaches them. My horse is standing right next to them so I can hear every word they say.

„You understand why I did it?", Eddard asks Bran.

„Jory said he was a deserter", Bran says.

„But do you understand why I had to kill him?", my father probes.

„Our way is the old way".

„The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword".

I remember that lecture. I got it along with Jory, when we had to attend our first execution and Jory almost rudely asked father if he felt guilty for killing a man, innocent in her eyes and why he didn't let any of his men do it.

„Is it true he saw the White Walkers?", Bran asks.

„The White Walkers have been gone for thousands of years", Jory interrupts quickly.

„So he was lying?". Eddard remains quiet for a moment, which obviously causes Bran to create doubt in Jory's words.

„A madman sees what he sees", he says after a while. Him and Jory exchange looks which means he doesn't have doubts in what the now dead deserter said.

We're halfway back to Winterfell when our path is blocked by the hideously torn up stag's corpse. The horses stop on Lord Eddard's command and he descends his horse, going close to examine the stag. Jory follows him, so do I and Theon.

„Mountain lion?", Theon asks as we stand in front of it.

„There are no mountain lions in these woods", Eddard says.

A trail of blood leads us through the forest, maybe we manage to find the place where it was attacked first. Even though Eddard is the leader of our little procession, Jory's is at his heels, clearly eager to 's always loved the forest,

on horseback or on foot.

The obvious attacker of the dead stag turns out being some kind of giant dog, which lies dead at a tree stub with a piece of the stags antlers stuck to its throat, apparently the reason why it died in the first place. Five tiny pups are huddling at itsstomach,  
making heartbreaking noises.

Eddard kneels down beside it, Jory steps behind him, looking at the wolf in awe.

„It'a a freak", Theon exclaims.

„It's a direwolf", Eddard says.

„Tough old beast", he adds and tears out the antlers of the wolfs throat.

„There are no dire wolves south of the Wall", Robb says.

„Now there are five", I say and reach down to take one of the pups.

„Want to hold it?", I ask Bran and put the pup into his arms.

„Where will they go? Their mother's dead".

„They don't belong down here", Ser RodrikCassel says.

„Better a quick death. They won't last without their mother", Eddard says gravely and immediately Theon draws his dagger.

„Give it here", he says and pulls the pup out of Bran's arms.

„No!", he shouts, desperately trying to hold on to the baby wolf.

„Put away your blade", Jory hisses at Theon.

„I take orders from Lord Stark, not you", Theon retorts. If looks could kill, Jory's expression would've made him melt on the spot.

„Please father!", Bran shouts.

„I'm sorry, Bran".

„Lord Stark. There are five pups. One for each of the Stark children. The dire wolf is the sigil of your house. They were meant to have them". I don't know where these words came from. I notice how it sounds strange calling my father formally „Lord Stark".  
/Robb and Bran look at their father with such begging faces I wonder if father will reject my idea.

„You will train them yourselves. You'll feed them yourselves. And if they die you'll bury them yourselves", Eddard finally decides. Theon puts away his dagger and hands the pup back to Bran who happily embraces it.

I pick up two pups at a time and hand them to Robb who passes them on to Theon.

„What about you?", Bran asks, eyeing Jory and me.

„We're not Starks. Get on", I say, trying hard to keep my face stern and free of emotions. Somehow I feel disappointed. Jory's and my eyes meet. She gives me a sad smile. It shows the Starks are one family and two bastards as ourselves will never belongto  
them, no matter what. The soldiers, Theon and Starks turn to get back to the horses.

I read in Jory's eyes. _It's okay_ she'strying to tell me but she can't hide her true feelings. I know how to read emotions from people's faces. An ability I acquired by living under the same roof with Catelyn Stark.

We just take a few steps to follow the group when I hear something a few feet next to me. I kneel, only to find two snowy pups with bright red eyes staring right at me.

„What is it?", Robb asks and everybody comes to a halt. Jory stops beside me.

I reached out to pick them up and they almost instantly crawl into my arms.

„The runts of the litter. Those are yours, Snows", Theon comments, sneering. Without reacting to him, I turn to Jory. As I lay one of the white pups into her arms her eyes light up as though a fire of joy has erupted behind them, meltingall grief  
away.


	3. Chapter 3 JORY

S01 E01

Winter is coming

Part 3

Jory

I name my direwolf Nyla, after a female heroine from one of my favorite books. She too has red hair, finds a wolf-like companion and is an orphan, seeking for her long lost sister. It sounds like a bad cliché, but I somehow feel a connection to thatgirl,  
even if she's just a work of fiction.

Once we're at Winterfell, I take Nyla to my chambers right away. I keep cuddling her, while the pup stares at me with her cute, huge eyes. I don't mind that they're red. I wouldn't care if she had purple or black eyes, I just wanted a direwolf so

badly and now I've got one. A bastard can't be fussy about something, especially when it comes to such a rare thing as direwolves.

It's almost painful having to put her down when a servant enters my chambers to remind me that the King and the Queen are traveling for Winterfell and will probably arrive on the morrow. I totally forgot about it. I've never met the Queen or the Kingbut  
I have heard stories, rumors, everything that's going on in the capital Kings Landing. News travel fast but rumors even faster.

Lord Stark is planning on having a great welcoming and an official welcoming feast at sundown.

We are supposed to doll ourselves up and of course it is expected of me to wear a dress on such a special occasion. It would be rude wearing my usual daily attire in the presence of the royal family but I wonder why it even matters in the first place,since  
I am going to sit far away from the Stark table because seating a bastard with the royal family would be considered an insult. Which means no one would see or care what I'd be wearing. The only thing that makes me feel better is the fact thatI  
won't have to sit on my own in the back of the Hall along with the commoners. Jon will sit there with me so we'll have each other to lament on our misfortune of being bastards.

I decide to go look for him and finally find him, along with Theon and Robb at barber Tommy's place, who is busy shaving their beards. All three boys are topless and I smirk. It is a rare sight and not a bad one either. Apart from Theon. His chest  
/isn't bad to be honest, but it's my (overall) dislike for him in general which makes me stay away from him.

„Why's your mother so dead-set on us getting pretty for the king?", I hear Jon ask as I enter.

„It's for the Queen I bet. I hear she's a sleek piece of meat/mink", Theon says. I roll my eyes. That's so typical of Theon. It's awful hearing him talk like that, as though women are nothing to him but playthings.

„I hear the prince's a right royal prick", Robb retorts.

„Think of all those southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick", Theon adds.

„You're disgusting, you know that?", I ask and get away from the door. As I walk next to Jon, I am sure to get a lot of distance between me and topless Theon.

„What are you doing here?", Jon asks.

„Getting some shaving done?", Theon says, leering. I'm not scared of him but he disgusts me.

„You want me to use my fists or the sword? We both know I'm well capable of beating you with both", I say. Theon's growing angry now but before either of us can jump at each others throat Robb gets up and pushes Jon towards the barber.

„Go on, Tommy, sheer him good. He's never met a girl he likes better than his own hair", he says, clearly trying to get rid of the tense atmosphere. And it's working because we all burst out laughing as barber Tommy goes through Jon's black curlswhile  
the latter's face looks like he's in agony.

„So what color's your silk dress going to have, Jory?", Jon asks. I can't really tell if he's being serious or not.

„I have no idea. Maybe I'll just wear some really long wams", I say. The thought of having to wear a silly dress makes me want to spontaneosly throw up. All my life I've avoided wearing those stupid girly dresses and it'd worked. Apparently until

now.

„Don't worry. No one's going to see it at the back of the hall. Who'd want to be seen with the likes of you anyway?", Theon says provocatively. But this time I don't take the bait and ignore him, even though it's hard because he slightly hurt my pride.  
/"I'm sorry about that,but you've got Jon to keep you company", Robb tries to cheer me up.

„If he ever makes it. Not by the looks of it", I say, grinning at Jon who still looks like barber Tommy's cutting off his nose or ear instead of his hair.

„At least I don't have to wear some silk gown", Jon retorts.

That one's going to stick for a while, I can tell.

The sun is setting and I'm still busy working on my sword skills on a dummy outside the stables. It's quite useful because you can improve while also venting your rage on it. Every time I hit the dummy it moves backwards and then comes back, it'salreadytattered  
due to the many times I've used it. For some reason today hitting the dummy isn't enough. I need a real sparring partner but Jon and Robb are busy and RodrikCassel is nowhere to be found which makes me even more angry.

„I wish I could fight as well", someone says behind me. I turn around. It's Arya. She's sitting on some hay bale like I do at nights when I can't sleep and watches me hitting the dummy effortless.

„Why aren't you asking RodrikCassel for some practice? I'm sure he wouldn't mind", I say. Arya shrugs.

„But I'm a girl and he will use that as an excuse not to train me. And Mother will never allow it anyway", she says.

„Then what am I, a direwolf? If he can train me he surely can train you too. Have you even asked your lady mother?". It sounds horribly formal but I what else am I supposed to say? Lady Stark is not my mother so I have no right to call her that way.  
/"A million times but she says I'm to be a lady, not a knight. How am I supposed to get time between those tedious embroidery lessons I have to attendall the time?", Arya asks. Before I can answer two small bundles suddenly jump at me from out  
of nowhere.I look down and realize they're Nymeria, Arya's direwolf and Nyla who must've snuck out of my room. I drop my sword and pick up Nyla.

„Let's go for a walk", I suggest.

We take our direwolves with us to the godswoods. Not because we want to pray but because we never get disturbed there and it's such a beautiful spot to sit.

I love the forest. It's always beautiful no matter whether it's day or night. In addition to that, I think a forest has something mystical no one can explain.

We walk to the small pond which is situated next to the heart tree which has a face carved into its trunk. The face slightly scares me. It makes me feel like even out here something or someone is watching me. Or maybe it has something to do with theface's  
expression. It looks so melancholy with red sap as tears.

Even though I don't believe in any gods I don't feel bad for coming here. This place is special no matter which gods you believe or don't believe in.

Arya and I sit down on some rocks next to the pond while our dire wolves start exploring the area.

„Are you sure they won't get lost?", Arya asks, eyeing her direwolf Nymeria.

„I'm sure. Direwolves are not like dogs but they're just as loyal as them. They always come back", I reassure her.

„I hate these stupid lessons I'm supposed to take. They're so useless and I don't care a bit about sewing my own dresses", Arya bursts out.

„I want to be able to fight, protect myself and others like Jon, Robb and you", she adds.

„I know how you feel. I felt exactly the same when I was little. Like I wasn't meant to make dresses and learn how to speak formally and all", I say.

„Whenever I say I want to learn how to fight properly everybody laughs at me. Especially Sansa", Arya complains.

„I wouldn't expect Sansa to understand you. She's happy with her role, she wants the perfect life by marrying some Lord and living in his castle, being his puppet until she dies", I say.

„But why won't anybody listen to me?", Arya asks.

„People tend to stick to the things they are used to because they are afraid of the new and what that might bring with it. Imagine, if they let women be knights, fight in battle and chose whom they want to marry. They'd give women more power and menare  
scared of being overthrown. Think of it like this; if you have power you want to keep it. Introducing something new might give others the change of taking this power. So you stick to the old ways in order to prevent from power being taken fromyou".

"So, what am I supposed to do?", Arya asks.

„Most important, make your own decisions. You want to learn swordplay? Then do whatever it takes to achieve this goal. Don't let others decide for you or they'll decide for you the rest of your life". I've had several talks about this subject withArya  
but never like this. Perhaps my anger is helping me somehow finding the right words.

„Why doesn't mother like you?", Arya asks completely unexpected and out of context. The question hits me like punch in the face.

„I guess, because I'm like Jon", I say, staring at my hands.

„But you're not fathers bastard daughter. You're not related to us".

„I don't know but I'm sure she has her reasons", I say.

„Didn't anyone ever tell you anything? Like where you're from or who your parents are?", Arya keeps asking.

„No. We should get back. It's almost time for supper", I evade after a moment of silence.

Just in that moment our two direwolves return and I'm glad the subject's off the table. For now.

Arya picks up little Nymeria and walks down the path back to the castle.

„Come on, Nyla. Let's get back", I say but Nyla won't come. Instead she is standing on her hind legs, her forepaws resting on the white trunk of the heart tree. A few inches up was the face.

„What is it, Nyla?", I ask but of course my wolf can't answer. Instead I walk up to the tree and kneel beside her.

My face and the carved in face are now at the same height. I feel like it's whispering to me but it's just the leaves above my head which move in the wind.

„Whatever", I mumble to myself, reach down and pick up Nyla. As I get up I accidentally touch the white trunk.

 _„Burn them all!", a man yells._

 _„I will take care of it", another voice says, slightly calmer. The image of a sword with a blade dark as the night flickers in front of me only to disappear the next moment._

 _„Promise me", a lighter voice whispers. Pictures rush past my inner eye, I see Eddard Stark on a horse and a woman is handing him something, a man with white hair collapsing, another sword, covered in blood, is raised and hits someone; more blood spatters. A woman is screaming._

I find myself on the grass, at the bottom of the tree. I'm breathing heavily.

„What in seven hells was that?", I wonder. Nyla is at my side, nudging me with her nose, while howling softly. I pick her up and press my face in her soft snowy white fur.

„I'm right here", I whisper. What just happened? Who spoke? Who was killed by that sword? Everything I just saw reminds me of my horrible nightmares.

Great, now I even have creepy nightmares while I'm awake.

I return to the castle, visibly shaken and distraught. Nyla seems to pick up my confusion and fear as she keeps howling, only to earn a cold stare from Lady Stark. I don't even care about that anymore, I head straight to my chambers.

Taking Nyla in my arms like before, I sit down on my bed and wish I could just stay up all night to avoid having more nightmares.

I miss dinner but I'm not hungry. Even when thinking of food, I see the bloody sword and hear a woman scream. The screams have nothing familiar, neither do the other voices I heard.

Someone knocks on my door.

„What?".

It's Jon. He's accompanied by Ghost, his direwolf which looks like an exact copy of Nyla, just like Jon and I look similar. Jon's carrying a bowl and some bread.

„We missed you at supper", he says and hands me the bowl.

„I didn't feel like eating", I mumble as I stare into the soup. Jon proceeds to sit next to me on the bed. Nyla jumps from the bed and Ghost and her start playing on the floor.

„You have to eat something", he urges me. That's another reason why I like Jon. He tries his best to take care of people he cares about even if they reject him, like I am doing now. But I still appreciate it.

„Something happened. But you don't have to talk about it", Jon says.

„I just don't want to have these dreams anymore. I want to go to sleep just one time in my life without being afraid what I'll dream", I blurt out.

„You've had another vision?", Jon asks.

„They're not visions. They're just stupid dreams", I snap at him. But Jon remains calm.

„I can't help you like this. Denying won't help forever. Maybe for a time". I don't answer.

„Is there anything I can do for you?", Jon asks after moments of silence.

„I have to sleep now. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day", I evade his offer. Jon sighs but then he leaves my chambers, followed by Ghost.

People have the nasty tendency to push people away when they feel they're getting too close, especially the people who want to help you, like I just did with Jon.

I change into my sleeping gown, constantly telling myself I did the right thing by sending him away and not telling him about the vision until it actually feels right. If you keep telling someone a lie, it is only a matter of time until you start

believing it yourself.


	4. Chapter 4 JORY

Part 4

S01 E01

Winter is coming

Jory

Like the gaping mouth of a direwolf the gates of Winterfell open, just waiting to swallow the crowd of Southerners arriving from Kings Landing. The Stark banner, a grey direwolf on white,is blowing in a slowly emerging cold breeze. Soldiers, servants  
andother somehow important people beyond counting are lined up in the courtyard, awaiting the Kings arrival. It can't be long because Bran just saw them moving close to the castle a few minutes ago. Of course he got another lecture about climbing  
byhis mother.

The Stark family is already in order, the front row, Lord and Lady Stark are in the middle, next to Eddard is Robb, followed by Sansa and Bran. Rickon is standing next to his mother, only Arya is missing. As the lines go backwards, the importance ofthe  
people decreases. I'm surprised Jon and I are permitted to stand in the second row.

Both of us are wrapped in black cloaks with grey fur as a sort of scarf. We're hidden behind Robb and Sansa. Next to Jon is Theon, tall and arrogant as ever. I'm sure, if it were up to Lady Stark, Jon and I would probably be sitting in the darkest cornerof  
the castle so no member of the royal family would even come to think someone as honorable as Eddard Stark could possibly have bastard children. Frankly, I'd feel much better sitting in a deep corner of the castle than standing in this courtyard, waiting  
to meet the King while half of my adoptive family pretends Jon and I don't exist.

We hear horses approaching. So the royal family finally made it here.

„Where's Arya? Sansa, where's your sister?", Lady Stark asks, as she look around, searching for her younger daughter. Sansa just shrugs.

Then, just before the first riders of Kings Landing make it to the central courtyard, Arya comes running to her family, wearing a cloak and a soldiers helmet, both is way too big for her.

„Hey, hey hey! What are you doing with that on? Go on", Lord Stark grabs Arya by the arm and takes the helmet off her. Jon and I look at each other and we can't help it, we both have to smirk. Arya is the only person to pull off something like this  
/and not get punished for it.

„Move". Arya takes her place in line next to Sansa by pushing Bran away.

Then the first horse, a white one enters the courtyard. The rider is wearing a white cloak and armor of shining gold, meaning he's a member of the Kingsguard. He is followed by a teenage boy with golden hair, wearing fine crimson leather clothing;  
/Prince Joffrey. I notice Sansa staring at the prince with an expression of pure admiration. They are accompanied by several guards on horses, carrying banners with a lion and a crowned stag; the sigils of houses Lannister and Baratheon. A dark red  
carriage

follows and finally the King enters the courtyard.

Lord Stark is the first to kneel, the rest follows his lead.

I dare lift my head slightly to watch what's going on. King Roberts dismounts his horse and walks right towards Lord Stark. Something, perhaps the look of his black beard and the tiny dark eyes makes me feel uneasy. A wave of his hand allows us to rise.

„Your Grace", Lord Stark greets the King.

„You got fat", the latter responds. After a moment of awkward silence the King starts laughing and hugs Lord Stark.

„Nine years. Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?".

„Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours".

King Robert commences to greet the Stark children, shaking Robb's hand, praising Sansa's beauty and makes Bran draw his (not-existent) muscles. I expect him to forget about Jon and me when his dark eyes suddenly rest on me. Instantly I drop my gaze,perfectlyaware  
it's considered rude to do so.

„And who might this one be?". The Kings deep voice is rumbling like distant thunder. It seems as though everyone has fallen silent. Even the birds have ceased their songs. It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everybody's eyes linger on me. Their eyes  
/feel like getting cut by knifes.I take a deep breath before answering. I don't want anyone speaking for me.

„Jory", I say, hastily adding „Your Grace".

„Jory who?", Robert probes. His grey eyes bury in mine and I have to admit, I am intimidated not just by him but also by the authority he emits.

„Jory…Snow". I hesitate before saying my surname, but what choice do I have?

„Snow…", Robert repeats, he proceeds to look at Jon and then throws a meaningful look at Eddard but to my relief he doesn't go further into the subject. Or maybe Lady Stark just threw him one of her evil stares to make him shut up. Either way, I don't  
/care as long as the King doesn't make any comment about my bastard status.

Meanwhile Queen Cersei and her two other children, Myrcella and Tommen, have left the carriage. One can say whatever he wants about the queen, she is a beautiful woman, of that there is no doubt. While her two children look like sweet, innocent children,their  
/older brother Prince Joffrey has something evil glowing in his emerald eyes, which instantly gives me a bad feeling about him. Cersei approaches Lord Stark and he kisses her hand. Lady Stark curtsies.

„Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects", Robert says.

„We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait", Cersei says but Robert seems determined to do as he wants, as he tells Lord Stark to come with him. Queen Cersei walks over to the Kingsguard member, who has now taken off his 's

Jaime Lannister, her twin brother. Cersei herself looks dissatisfied.

I wonder how I'd feel if my husband would run off to the grave of his once betrothed rather than spending time with me. I'd probably be annoyed as well.

Jon and I look at each other, sad and confused but somehow encouragingly.

It seems possible to feel lonely and lost even when you're surrounded by a mob of people. In this huge ocean of strangers, Jon seems like an island I can hold on to, which keeps me from drowning.

The feast is well underway. Just as I had expected it, Jon and I are sitting far away from the Starks and the royal family, among some commoners. Unlike other people, I don't feel insulted by sitting with commoners, I feel more insulted by the fact thatI  
/have to sit back here because my presence is apparently insulting to the royal family.

We both eat quickly and quietly, doing our best to ignore how much everybody else seems to be enjoying the feast. The only advantage sitting back here is that nobody can watch over the amount of wine you drink. I don't drink anyway. The King alreadyis  
/fairly hammered, roaring with laughter and busy kissing one of the servant women. Even though the Queen seems displeased with his behavior, her eyes tell she doesn't actually care. It's no secret that their marriage had nothing to do with love,it  
/was purely political. As far as I know Robert was to marry Lyanna Stark, Lord Eddards now deceased sister but she died before they were married a while ago.

Not for long and a servant appears next to Jon and me, asking if we are done with our food; a subtle hint that our presence is no longer required and we're supposed to leave the feast. I don't mind it but Jon seems really offended this time and angrilystorms  
/out of the hall.

I find him in the courtyard, next to the stables and the archery targets, where he's attacking a dummy with his sword, obviously in quite some rage.

„Are you okay?", I ask. I have to admit it's a stupid question, of course he's not okay. Jon doesn't respond, just keeps slicing up the dummy.

„Just forget it. That's not something worth being upset about", I say even louder. When Jon still doesn't react I realize it's not worth trying to talk sense into him. He's just doing what I did before. But I don't want Jon to send me away like I

did. I look around and pick up the first sword I find.

„Feel like slicing up something living?", I shout and Jon stops hitting the dummy. He turns around and I wield the sword in my right hand. He still doesn't look too interested.

„Not that you'd ever have a chance against me", I tease him. This always works on Jon, always has.

„Fine. You're on", Jon says and I notice his anger is ceasing slightly. We go to the middle of the yard where we have enough space to spar.

Jon has always been better at swordplay while I outshoot him when it comes to archery. Sparring with Jon is ever a challenge because if we'd be at the same level, none of us would learn.

This time Jon managesto gain the upper hand quite fast, much to my annoyance. The anger he feels seems to give him extra when hehas meon myback we get interrupted.

„Need some back-up?". We lower our swords and see Benjen Stark dismounting his horse, dressed all in black, the trademark of the Nights Watch brotherhood.

"Uncle Benjen!", Jon shouts happily, much to my surprise since he seemed prettyupset just a moment ago, dropping his sword. I scramble to my run up to meet him.

"You've gotten bigger", Benjen says as he hugs Jon.

"And you, more beautiful than ever". I hug him as well, all anger from before is instantly washed away. Benjen Stark, Lord Eddard's younger brother has always been kind to me, the moment I first met him he treated me no different than Jon or the otherStark  
/children.

"We haven't expected you", I say.

"Rode all day. I won't leave you alone with the Lannisters", Benjen says and smiles broadly.

"Why aren't you two at the feast?", he asks. Jon and I look at each other. I see his eyes darkening.

"Lady Stark thought it might insult the royal family to seat bastards in their midst", I say gloomily.

"Well, you're always welcome on the Wall. Both of you. No bastard was ever refused to see there", Benjen tries to cheer us up.

"Girls are", I mumble.

"So take me with you when you go back", Jon says in a sudden rush. I stare at him, silenced by surprise.

"Jon...",

"Father will let me if you ask him. I know he will". Jon seems on fire now, his grey eyes seem to glowanticipation/excitement. Benjen remains silent for a moment, only the music from the feast can be heard faintly in the background. I'm too stunnedto  
/say a word. I knew Jon admired the Watchers on the Wall but he never told me he actually wanted to take the black.

"The Wall isn't going anywhere", Benjen says hesitantly.

"I'm ready to swear your oath".

I'm not too familiar with the oath of the Nights Watch, I only know they swear off women and titles for the rest of their life.

"You don't understand what you'd be giving up. We have no families. None of us will ever father children".

"I don't care about that!", Jon says hotly.

"You might, if you knew what it meant", Benjen says quietly. Suddenly a loud shattering noise can be heard from the hall, followed by laughter. It seems to waken Jon as well as Benjen from their thoughts.

"Ah, better get inside. Rescue your father from his guests", Benjen says. He almost seems relieved the tense conversation is over. Jon looks disappointed; Benjen lays a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll talk later". With those words he disappears into the hall.

I cross my arms in front of my chest, looking at Jon accusingly.

"What is it?", he asks as he meets my gaze.

"When were you going to tell me about your plans of taking the black?", I ask. My voice is shrill.

"I haven't thought about it much", he says.

"Yet you have and you didn't bother telling me", I say angrily.

"I don't see why you're so upset about it". The way Jon says it makes me even more angry.

"Apparently you didn't think about what taking the black meant for other people apart from yourself". Jon just looks at me. It's impossible reading from his eyes.

"You'd have to leave for the Wall, leave everything behind and you'd never be able to visit Winterfell. Visit me". My voice has grown more silent, it's full of sadness now. I don't want him to leave and just the thought of it already hurts. Jon remains  
/silent, apparently he doesn't know what to say. Suddenly a small, blonde haired man, no taller than a child appears from the shadows.

"You're uncles's in the Nights Watch", he says. His attire is crimson red, I notice the sigil of house Lannister sewn on the sleeves. It's the infamous Imp.

"What are you doing back there?", I ask harshly.

"Preparing for a night with your family", he says while approaching us. He's carrying a flask with him from which at times he takes a sip.

"I've always wanted to see the Wall", he adds, drinking from the flask. I can smell wine.

"You're Tyrion Lannister. The Queens brother", Jon says and it almost sounds like a question.

"My greatest accomplishment", the short man says grimly. He raises his head and takes a good look at both of us. It's strange looking downward to meet a grown man's eyes, I think.

"You're Ned Starks bastard and you're the foreign bastard, aren't you?", he says to Jon and me. Clearly it's a statement, not a question. We both glare at the short man with disdain. I feel a sudden rush of coldness, the truth I'm so desperately tryingto  
/forget revealed again. It feels like a slap across the face. Only that my heart is burning in pain instead of my cheek. Jon even turns his back and heads for his sword. For one moment I'm afraid he might hit Tyrion with it.

"Did I offend you, sorry. You are the bastards though". Tyrion Lannister follows us to the stables. I clench my hands to fists. Is he trying to mock us? I hate people calling me bastard. Suddenly Jon whirls around, the sword in hand.

"Lord Eddard Stark is my father", he says stiffly, his eyes are glowing like ember.

"And Lady Stark is not your mother. Making you a bastard". I wonder why Jon suddenly had the urge to justify himself. I don't, so far I just want to punch the little man in his ugly face. Just then he turns to me.

"What about you, redhead. Who are your parents?", he asks. I can't tell if he's being serious or not. A man of his origin, especially the proud Lannisters, would never truly care about a bastards origin.

"That's not to bother you. I don't need some tiny man mocking me about my origin, especially not someone who's from the most arrogant, power-hungry House the Realm has ever seen", I hiss at the dwarf. My words seem to have little impact which stirseven  
/more anger inside me.

"Let me give you some advice, bastards. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like amor, it can never be used to hurt you", Tyrion Lannister says right to my face.

"What the hell do you know about being a bastard?", Jon angrily retorts.

"All dwarfs are bastards in their fathers eyes". He takes another sip of wine.

"You're your mother's trueborn son of Lannister", I say, I don't even know why.

"Am I? Do tell my lord father. My mother died birthing me, and he's never been sure", the dwarf replies, cynical.

"I don't even know who my mother was", I murmur, staring at my hands. My cheeks are burning and all anger somehow melting like an icicle in the sunlight.

"Some woman, no doubt. Most of them are. Remember this girl, you may not know her, but she did know and surely loved you. Otherwise you wouldn't be standing here now". With those words Tyrion Lannister turned and left for the hall; leaving me confusedthat  
/a man who just mocked me about my status as a bastard actually tried to make me feel better; it was like pushing someone to the ground and then helping them get to their feet again.


	5. Chapter 5 JON

Part 5  
S01 E01  
Winter is coming

Jon

Jory's fist whizzes past me, just inches away from my face. Blood is trickling out of a small wound on my brow but I won't dare wiping it away, for a single moment without concentration could make a difference between life and death. Of course Jory and  
I are not fighting to death but we take close combat very seriously. At least Jory is. I'm determined to improve in this area myself, since I really want to join the Nights Watch and I know that the first step of joining the Brotherhood involves rigorous  
training. If I manage proving myself to be a skilled fighter, I could become a Ranger like my Uncle Benjen.  
Jory is breathing heavily but standing perfectly strong, giving no hints how exhausted she actually is. her dark blue eyes fixated on me. Dawn is just breaking.  
When Jory first asked me to practise some hand to hand combat Ser Rodrick explained why it was so important.  
"A good knight has to be able to wield more than just a sword or any weapon. If someone has disarmed you, your fists are the last weapon you have left. So you have to know how to use them", he had inculcated us back then. So I agreed to practise with  
Jory, for a living enemy had more use than punching straw men.  
The first times I had hesitated to actually hit her. I'd just dodged her punches and never truly tried to strike her.  
"If you saw more in me than just a woman you'd be capable of hitting me without feeling bad about it", Jory had said when I told her I couldn't hit her. And then she had smacked me right in the face. I had to endure people's laughs about my black eye  
for ages. Ever since then I didn't hesitate actually striking her. Of course I felt bad about it and I still do because it's just not notmal hitting your friends.  
Every time you fall, you also learn how to stand up. One of the many beliefs concerning hand to hand combat.  
We have our fists raised, slowly circling each other while waiting for the other to strike again.  
"When you two bastards are done with your dancing lessons, you can order the stableboys to get the Kings and Lord Starks horses ready!", someone calls down to us.  
I lift my head. Messy hair, sly grin, a golden kraken emblazoned on the black doublet; it's Theon Greyjoy. Jory's gritting her teeth.  
"Maybe you ought to come down and join us. Perhaps then I wouldn't always beat you. Do we look like servants to you!", she shouts back. I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down but she shakes it off.  
"I can see two bastards dancing which is even better", Theon shouts.  
"Don't listen to him. He's an idiot", I say calmly.  
"And he'll certainly look like an idiot when I am done with him", Jory retorts, a look of wry contempt on her face. For some reason ever since last night she's bad-tempered and won't even talk to me. I'd bet anything it has something to do with me going  
to the Wall.

The hunt leaves just a while later. The King, Father, several guards, even the Prince take part in it. The King wants a nice boar for supper. I don't mind them leaving, in fact it gives me some time to think as long as the castle is silent.  
A bit of the sun is already visible, bathing the godswood of Winterfell in its orange light.  
I approach the Heart Tree with Ghost running not far from me, chasing some animal through the woods. He disappears but I don't worry about him. Ghost always comes back.  
I sit at the pool of water, the Heart Tree standing opposite of me. Sometimes the carved in face scares me; the deep-cut eyes are red with sap and look as though the face is crying tears of blood. I need to clear my head. The last days have been so busy,  
lot's of people, too many people everywhere; I couldn't get a moment alone at all. I know what I'm doing by taking the vows of the brothers of the Nights Watch and I don't mind the part about celibating or never taking a wife, yes I'm good at lying  
to myself, but the part which truly bothers me is the one about leaving Winterfell forever. I care a great lot for my family even if Lady Stark and Sansa haven't exactly treated me like one but it doesn't matter anymore. Maybe my (half)brothers will  
be able to visit me at Castle Black but I'm not sure about the girls. It's almost impossible imagining never seeing Arya or Jory again. Just the thought seems unbearable. Jory, Robb and Arya have been my closest companions so far, Jory and Robb as  
long as I can remember. Seems like I have to make a whole lot of sacrifices in order to serve the Nights Watch. I hope it's worth it.  
Suddenly Ghost comes rushing back to me, at least I think it is until I realize it's not my direwolf even if it looks just like him.  
"Nyla, here!". Jory emerges from the trees, leaves hanging in her clothes, her boots are covered in dirt. Streaks of her flaming red hair have straggled free from her long braid.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your prayers", she says once she notices me.  
"You know I don't pray", I say. For a while we don't talk, only the rustling of leaves and distant birds singing can be heard. The sun is rising, I can almost feel it tickling on my skin.  
"Have you thought about it? You know, taking the black?", Jory asks.  
I sigh.  
"You know I have no future here. It's my only chance to do something honorable, that counts. Something I chose to do. I don't want to wait until Father sends me away".  
Jory studies her hands while Nyla nudges my leg with her snout. I stroke her soft fur. It's amazing how much she has grown so far. Both our direwolves already have the size of a small dog.  
"What about me? What will I do when you're gone?", she asks. I shrug.  
"Find an adventure of your own. Maybe Father will take you with them to Kings Landing", he suggests. Jory walks over and sits down next to me. Her direwolf climbs from my leg into her lap. She ruffles the snow-white fur between Nyla's ears.  
"For real? What would I do in Kings Landing? Sansa's just going because she's to wed Prince Joffrey and Eddard's the new Hand of the King".  
"It'd be a change and you'd be away from Lady Stark. Besides, have you ever seen a place other than Winterfell?", Jon asks. I shake my head no.  
"As if they'd let me come. Arya's going to be enough trouble". Jon smirks.  
"I think they need someone like Arya to lighten the mood once in a while", he says.  
"I always wanted to sail. See the open water, ocean as far as the eye can reach", Jory says thoughtfully.  
All of a sudden I remember something about her dream the other day.  
"Jory, the last time you had a nightmare, the Wall appeared in it, didn't it?", I ask. She nods.  
"Yes. And Castle Black while a black horse was running towards it. Why?".  
"You dream about Castle Black and the day after I decide to join the Nights Watch. What if it wasn't a dream but a vision?", I speculate. Jory raises an eyebrow, shaking her head in disbelief.  
"Probably just a coincidence", she evades.  
"Seven hells, just stop it. You know this is something deeper than just dreams. You just have to accept it and admit it. Stop lying to yourself", I say irritably.  
"Alright, let's just say my dreams were visions, why would I see you leaving for the wall?", Jory asks hotly.  
"What do I know? For all we know, it may happen", I say.  
"Good to know. I keep dreaming of people's deaths, so this means you're going to die too? Everybody I ever dream about is going to die?". Her eyes seem to sparkle.  
"All men will die", I say.  
"Last time I touched the Heart Tree I saw something..." She get's up and reaches out her hand to touch the tree's trunkt.  
"What do you...", I never get to finish my question. The moment Jory's hand touched the tree trunk, her eyes roll to the back of her head and she drops to the ground.  
"Jory? Jory!", I shout and grab her shoulders. Her body is shaking. I feel helpless and panicked.  
"Nyla, get help!". It's worth a try. As though she understands me, Nyla leaps through the forest and disappears from my view. To my relief a few moments later Jory seems to recover, her body is calm now and I can see her dark blue eyes again.  
"What happened? Are you okay?", I ask. Instead of an answer arises to her feet, looking slightly bemused.  
"It's Bran. We've got to save Bran", she says.  
"What? Why Bran? What do you mean?", I ask confused.  
Just in that moment Nyla starts howling in the distance.

I'm certain now that Jory's dreams aren't just dreams. But anyway, it didn't make much of a difference this time.  
Bran had fallen from the Broken Tower he was climbing and now lay in some kind of coma. All members of the Stark family are gathered in his room right now, with Lady Stark on a chair next to him, like a lioness guarding her cub.  
"It's my fault", Jory says gravely. We're standing at Bran's open door but neither of us dares to enter.  
"Don't be ridiculous", I rebuke her.  
"It is. I saw him fall and I didn't do anything to prevent it from happening".  
"You've had the vision just moments before he fell. There was nothing you could have done". Jory remains silent.  
"You can't see the bigger picture here. You can tell when bad things are going to happen which means you're able to save more people in the future. It's a gift", I say after she continues to stare at the unconscious Bran in his bed, covered by furs. Then  
she looks at me. Her face is expressionless.  
"I couldn't save him. And all visions on this earth will not bring him to open his eyes again. This is not a gift. It's a curse".


	6. Chapter 6 JORY

S01 E02

The Kingsroad

Part 1

Jory

Bran's been in a comatose state for a few days now. His condition so far has neither improved or worsened. Everyone seems busy with the royal family getting ready to ride for Kings Landing today, along with Jon, Uncle Benjen and Tyrion Lannister, the Imp, who are going to the Wall. Apparently the dwarf Lannister doesn't want to take the black, only see the wall. Jon and I haven't brought up the subject about him leaving ever since I've had the vision about Bran falling in the godswood. I just can't talk about it, neither the visions or Jon's impending departure. Talking about it makes it real and I am not ready to face the truth yet.

It's the same with my dream-visions. Every night I hope to get a vision which might show me Bran waking up or climbing another wall and not falling this time, but in vain. All I ever see more people dying, such as Ser Rodrik's lifeless body floating in water or, much to my confusion, two wolves embracing but the next moment one of the wolves rips open the other one's throat.

Time is passing, life is going on, but without me. Everything somehow reminds me of Bran. Then I keep guilt-tripping myself, how it's all my fault and I could have saved him. If only I could turn back time.

Lady Stark won't even let me visit him. I've come to his room thrice but never dared to enter because of her. Somehow what happened to Bran seems to have increased her contempt for me and Jon, as he hasn't been allowed to see him either.

I'm breaking my fast at the great hall with Sansa and Septa Mordane which truly is torture because both of them just keep chatting about their upcoming trip to Kings Landing which I certainly won't be a part of. So far I'm to stay here at Winterfell with Robb, Bran and Lady Stark. At least Robb will be there, he's a good friend and treats me like a true-born sister but we've never been as close as Jon and I am. Besides, with Lord Stark busy in the South as Hand of the King, Robb will have to take over his duties which means he won't have much spare time to spend with me. And I can't see myself chatting and sewing with Lady Stark at Bran's bed, so I'll have to find something on my own to pass the time.

My name day is only a few weeks away and I dread the thought of having to spend it with Lady Stark, Robb and Theon instead of going riding with Jon. I'd rather have them forget it.

I take a few pieces of bacon and nibble at them. Nyla, who is lying beside my chair can obviously smell it because she starts nudging my arm. I order some raw meat which I give to her instead. Septa Mordane cuts me a glance but I ignore it.

"A lady shouldn't feed her pet while breaking her fast. A direwolf is not an appropriate pet for a lady anyway", she says.

"Be that as it may, septa. But as you can see and know, I am no lady and since I'm not aspiring to be one it's all the same to me", I say calmly.

Nyla howls quietly, seeking my attention. I scratch her between her ears. She's my only solace here and the most loyal companion one would ever hope for. Ghost and Nyla are as tall as grown dogs by now. I don't know much about direwolves but it seems as if she is adapting partly to my character; fierce if needed to protect the people she cares about but also quiet and thoughtful. Even Theon is keeping his distance now after Nyla almost tore out a piece of flesh from his calf when he made another stupid comment about my fighting skills the other day.

"Please excuse me, my ladies, but I have a swordplay lesson to attend".

I empty my cup of water, grab my sword while shooting Septa Mordane a provoking look. To mock her even further I curtsy, the only thing I can remember from my first (and last) lesson with Septa Mordane when I was a child. It's almost fun watching her gasping for air.

I turn and leave the hall with Nyla on my heels. Sansa and the septa can be heard making comments about my rude behavior but it goes unheeded. Outside I almost run into a tall man.

"Pardon me", I say. The man turns around and I realize it's Robb. His direwolf Grey Wind sniffs at Nyla. Even though they are siblings, she towers over him quite a bit.

"Careful there", he says not unkind.

"How's Bran?", I ask curiously.

Robb smiles ruefully.

"Unchanged. However Maester Luwin says the most dangerous time is past. He won't die".

"You Starks aren't easy to kill", I say, smirking.

"Have you seen him yet?", Robb asks. My grin disappears instantly.

"I would've but-". I don't want to tell him how his mother keeps sending me away. If there's something I've always wanted and tried to avoid, it is causing an argument between the Starks.

"I...I have to get to my lesson now", I evade. Robb seems to be taken aback but he let's me leave. I feel bad for not telling him the truth but it try easing the guilt by telling myself I did it to keep his family from harm. As if they hadn't been harmed enough. And it's still my fault it came to it in the first place by not saving Bran from falling off that damned tower.

The sword slashes at my head. I parry it, though it came close. My sparring partner, a young guard in training, moves forward, his blade whistling as he thrusts again. I retreat. Quickly I sidestep and sweep his blade away with all my power, leaving his right side unprotected. The opportunity I was waiting for the entire time.

"You are dead now", I say quietly to boy when my sword makes contact with his leather breastplate but since the blades are blunt it doesn't really harm him.

The blow and my words catch him off guard. One more strike and I knock the sword out of his hand. The boy tries backing away but he stumbles and falls to the ground.

„Yield! I yield", he shouts as I point the tip of my sword at his throat. I look at Ser Rodrik, who is watching. He nods and I lower the sword.

„She's right, you know?", he says as the boy gets back on his feet.

„Well fought", he hisses, his voice full of bitter irony.

That's why I hate sparring with those to-be-guards. They can't stand losing especially against a girl. However as I'm a bastard I don't get trained with the true-born Stark boys. I can't afford to be picky. It was either train with the to-be-guards or attend embroidery lessons.

Guards are the most arrogant and proud when it comes to fighting, especially the Lannister guards. Yesterday, when I fought two boys at once they watched and sneered, saying Ser Rodrik should make it easy for a scrawny little girl like me could never win. I proved them wrong.

Ser Rodrik starts lecturing the boy while I put down the sword and drink some water. Just then Jory Cassel, my male namesake, Ser Rodrik's nephew and captain of the guards to House Stark hurries across the yard towards us.

„Jory Snow?", he says he reaches me. How hard can it be to call me by my first name? Why do people keep adding the „Snow"? Do they actually think I'd ever forget I'm a bastard?

„Yes?".

„Lord Stark awaits you in your chambers. He wishes to speak to you", Cassel informs me.

„What?", I ask.

„That's for you to find out", he answers.

„I've got my lesson to finish". I grab my sword.

„Lord Stark wants to see you now".

I look at Ser Rodrick.

„Go ahead. We'll finish our lesson some other time", he says and I'm dismissed.

Deep, angry howling can be heard from the kennels. Whenever I practice swordplay I'm forced to put Nyla there, as she would start attacking my opponents. She has some difficulties telling sparring partners and real foes of mine apart. Since I'm done with my lesson for today I pick her up. The white direwolf is running around the yard and disappears from my view. Probably she's going hunting.

I enter the castle, it's not far to my chambers. What could Lord Stark possibly want from me? Maybe he finally wants to tell me something about my parents. My heart starts pounding really fast. I'm nervous.

When I reach my chambers I quickly run through my hair and straighten my clothes. They're spattered with dirt but there's nothing I could possibly change in now. So I enter.

Lord Eddard Stark is standing at the window, his back to the door. He turns his head when he hears the door.

„You wanted to speak to me", I say, my voice slightly shaking. I don't even know why, I guess it's just the tension I feel.

„Aye".

„What about?", I ask.

„Close the door", Lord Stark says and turns away from the window. I do as I am bid.

„Please excuse that this comes at such short notice but I've decided you won't stay here at Winterfell with my wife and Robb", he says. My heart seems to miss a beat.

„So…so you're sending me away?", I ask.

„Not permanently. Just for a time while I'm away", Lord Stark says.

„Where will I go?". Despite the cold breeze coming into my room through the window I'm sweating.

„You'll be going with Benjen and Jon to the Wall".

For a moment I forget to breathe. I'll be going to the Wall. With Jon. I won't be alone here with Lady Stark to throw evil looks at me. I am overjoyed but still curious.

„Why to the Wall? A girl can't join the Night's Watch", I probe.

„You will not join the Night's Watch, even if you could. You will just be spending the time there", Lord Stark explains. I wonder that the Brothers will think of a girl staying among them.

„I will send a letter to the Lord Commander before you arrive", Eddard says.

„What if they forbid me to come?".

„They can't. Because it's an order".

Apparently being Warden of the North brings some advantages with it. Lord Stark turns for the door and I leap to my feet.

„Is that it?", I say disappointed. Eddard Stark looks slightly irritated.

„I just thought…maybe you would tell me something about my parents", I say. Eddard approaches me slowly and places his hand on my shoulder.

„When you're old enough, Jory, I will tell you". I'm fighting the urge to shake off his hand and yell at him.

„I'm old enough, seven hells! They're my parents. You have to tell me about them sometime!", I shout angrily.

„Not today", Lord Stark says firmly. Then he picks up something from beside my bed and hands it to me.

„An early present. For your name day". To my surprise, it's a sheath with a sword inside. The grip is wrapped in smooth, scarlet leather. The pommel is fairly small with an orange gemstone, which glimmers like fire in the faint light. I grab the sword at the hilt and pull it out. I gasp in disbelief as I observe the blade.

„It's not…", I start.

„Valyrian steel", Lord Stark finishes for me. The blade is long and slender, with the length of a „regular" longsword. The famous feature of a Valyrian sword is the darkness of the steel. When I turn it sideways, I can see the distinctive ripples in the dark steel where the metal has been folded back on itself again and again. I've seen a Valyrian sword before but never held one. As I adjust my grip it doesn't just feel perfectly balanced but also confusingly familiar, as though I'd held it before.

„Do you like it?", Lord Stark asks. I touch the dark steel with my hand, careful to avoid the edges. Nothing cuts like Valyrian steel. I remember my lessons.

„It's marvelous", I say awed.

„But I can't take this".

Eddard smiles warmly.

„It's yours. Take it". I hesitate. Of course I want this sword but how come I'm the one to get it? Valyrian steel is really rare, only a handful of smiths still knows how to forge such a sword.

„But why are you giving this sword to me? Why not Robb? Or…Jon". I almost wanted to say Bran.

„It's meant to be yours and no one else's", Lord Stark says.

„Did you get it from my family?", I ask.

„It was given to me to pass on to you", he says cryptically. I'm starting to get annoyed by this riddle-talking and guessing.

„So you did get it from my family? Who am I?", I shout impatiently. Eddard leaves for the door, then he stops and gives me an apologetic smile.

„Next time I see you, I will tell you about your parents".

Then he's gone.

I continue to stare at the door, as if I'd find the answers to my questions carved into the wood. There it was. My chance of finding out who I am and where I'm from. And I missed it. Again.

I sit down on my bed and have a very close look at the sword. It really is a masterpiece. Even though the hilt and the pommel aren't overly decorated which I like. A weapon like this is meant for fighting and decorations certainly don't make you fight better. All the blade has to be is strong and sharp. Besides, in case I ever have to fight an enemy of mine, this blade will be decorated in another, a lot more beautiful way.

As I observe the blade a picture appears in my mind's eye. A dark blade. If my mind isn't playing tricks on me, I think I remember seeing a blade of Valyrian steel in my vision when I touched the Heart Tree. I try to recall the vision. A man was screaming something about burning. Someone making a promise. A bloodied sword. A man dying. A woman screaming. Eddard Stark. And finally the blade which I remembered because it was so dark. Dark like mine. Dark like Valyrian steel.

 _It was given to me to pass on to you._

 _It's meant to be yours._

What did Lord Stark mean by this. Who gave him the sword in the first place? It must have been someone who knew me as well. My parents? Or somebody who was acting as a supervisor because my parents were dead?

My head starts hurting from all the questions I have. Unfortunately I have dozens of questions and absolutely no answers. Every question I start asking is sure to be a dead end.

Since I'm off to the Wall today, I need to pack some things and most importantly, there are a few people I want to bid farewell, such as Robb, Arya, Rickon, Bran… But first I have to tell Jon about me going to the Wall with him. I put my new sword back in the sheath and take it with me. Again, there's this strange feeling of familiarity which I can't possibly explain.


End file.
